


Peepo

by daisybrien



Category: Nanalan
Genre: Crack, Gen, I wrote this for a friend give me a break
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 13:00:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6052501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisybrien/pseuds/daisybrien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She has to find it</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peepo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [casetrippy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/casetrippy/gifts).



> inspired on this http://quenenie.tumblr.com/post/136698924489/edgy-nanalan-au
> 
> A friend wanted me to write this it is time to pay up now

The blistering of the desolate, burning sun almost keeps her from leaving that day, the heat of the parched earth blanketing the fabric softness of her skin with a heavy discomfort that weighs on her more than the building hunger and thirst. The air is dry, blindingly bright as she steps out from behind the tattered screen door of the tiny little house. She squints into the barren distance, looks into the nothingness beyond before her eyes fall to the worn shoes on her feet. 

Mona kicks the dirt with the toe of her sneaker, the once moist and fertile soil reduced to nothing more than rocky dust that hangs in the air and chokes in her lungs. Her eyes ache with what meager tears she can offer as she kneels down, raking her fingers through the sticky powder that dusts the gravelly, cracked ground, feeling it settle under her nails. It’s been years since the garden has yielded anything worth trying to sow. 

She heaves herself up onto her feet again, and with a rickety step, she starts away from the ramshackle house, into the empty wasteland of the earth beyond. She wonders if there is anyone else out there; if anyone else has survived this long, besides her and Nana. But maybe that doesn’t even matter. There is only one thing that she needs to find. 

“Russer,” she calls, whistling through thin, chapped lips as she hoists her duffel bag on her back packed with the little necessities Nana could spare her. She hears a panting, growing louder, closer to her side, followed by the pitter patter of paws against the ground growing earnest as they slow by her side. She looks down, offering a weary smile to the dog that looks up at her, still smiling over his floppy tongue despite his hunched figure and greying patches of fur. The years have been rough on him. They’ve been rough on everyone since this insignificant, feeble world started dying.

She almost regrets the way he loyally follows her as she leads him into the nothingness ahead of them, the plain, yellow horizon nothing more than a line promising nothing but more wasteland beyond it. His cheerfulness almost reminds her of the innocence of her childhood, when the world was still lush with green lawns and ripe samados and shoosh and she pranced along barefoot with the grass tickling underneath her feet, staining her pink dress as she tripped and chased Russer and butterflies along the fences of the backyard. It is nothing more than a distant memory, like the bright colours of caterpillars on Russer’s nose or flamigoes dotting the yard, or the sweet sourness of her lemon lollies, or Nana’s comforting smile as she knitted scarves on her rocking chair before the hope in her eyes died along with the planet around them.

She realizes what those fences were for now; beyond the confines of Nana’s safe little house was a world of cruelty and death. They were meant to keep her safe, to keep her once innocent and peaceful mind from being tainted by the corruption of it, limiting her curiosity to the relative safety of ignorance. Now it provides little relief, the tall wooden fences of the backyard and the dilapidated paneling of Nana’s cottage defeated by the dangers that had made its way inside. What used to be a haven of Mona’s childhood was now wasting away with the rest of the hell outside of it.

She doesn’t want to leave, almost aches to cling to the house’s crumbling foundation and the last remnants of her childhood, nothing more than wishful thinking among her memories. Still, no matter how much it hurts, she doesn’t look back as she treks on, never to see Nana shed a single tear as she watches her granddaughter leave her house for what might as well be the last time. She doesn’t know when she will ever see the people she loves again. She doesn’t think she will.

She can’t stay. This home has nothing more to offer her than rotting wood and dry, dying leaves from plants that had grown too long ago. What used to be her protector now needs her help in return, for her to be an aid and bring about the joys of life. To bring sustenance and growth, end the plague of starvation and drought. To watch the seedlings of Nana’s garden sprout anew under the fresh rains of warm summers. 

To bring the Peepo back.

Maybe it is all a lost cause, she thinks, as her Nana’s house begins to disappear over the horizon behind her, growing dark in front of the setting sun and the earth grows cold with the gloomy night. Who knows what she could find out here, if there is anything to find, let alone anything good. But she has no other choice. As long as there is a hope for redemption she will find it, and bring it back to make her Nana’s house the root of the world’s joy and laughter again. She doesn’t care if she might die out there; she would rather do so than give up on the last bit of hope she has left.

Mona hopes it will be worth it.

If she can find the Peepo, she knows it will.

**Author's Note:**

> I wasted an hour of my life on this


End file.
